Annelise, the hot blonde escort

I stood in the mirror, fussing with my costume before going out for my set, and smiled at my reflection.

Sexy. Young-looking but not childish—a classic look with a sexy twist. Perfect.

And I was proud to be able to pull off the look, even at almost thirty years old (twenty-eight to be precise). Looking good, Diamond.

My name is Annelise and I am an escort, you can see all about me on the Sin Lips escort agency page.

Today I had new clients who had invited me over for a session. They were a couple and had requested a striptease, roleplay, uniform, and a few other services. Let me tell you a bit about myself, I am from Eastern Europe and I speak English really fluently. Clients loved my cute bum and my perfect 34B natural boobs. I lived and worked in Earl’s court and that is where I offered different services.

I was slim, and petite at 5'5 which helped me play a few roles perfectly just like now when I was wearing one of my favorites: “Naughty English Schoolgirl.” A short, pleated, blue tartan skirt barely covered my bum, and a white, short-sleeved blouse with a Peter Pan collar and tartan necktie set off my sun-kissed complexion. My long dark hair was tied in pigtails with blue ribbons, and I wore white ankle socks with black Mary Jane buckle shoes.

I felt a warm flutter in my belly at the thought of being the center of libidinous attention, wanted and desired by the people visiting the club where I worked. Even after years, I got excited and slightly nervous before going onstage. My nipples hardened and pressed against the thin fabric of my blouse, and my heart rate increased. I didn’t bother with a bra, preferring the dark hint of my areolae to be slightly visible through the white cloth. Under my skirt, I wore a pair of frilly knickers designed to be conspicuous and removed. Beneath that, I wore a tiny red thong.

When I danced, I stripped down to my thong and necktie; part of my routine was to pull off my schoolgirl blouse and leave on my narrow tartan tie, which draped between my bare, handful-sized boobs. Men loved that look: topless, wearing a thin tie and a tiny red thong below. The effect sparked their imaginations, sending an incongruous message that my clients found alluring and arousing.

As I stepped out of the room, the clients led me to a special room in the house. The room was set up like a stage for a stripper performance with a stainless steel pole running from floor to ceiling in the center of the stage.

I couldn’t see any of my clients because of the stage lights shining at me; from the stage, most of the club was in shadows and darkness, punctuated by sporadic roving lights splashing out from the stage area. Goosebumps played across my skin as my inner excitement ignited.

I walked out onto the stage, stopped, and pretended to be shy, biting my lip and looking nervously around. That usually caught the audience’s attention more than just strutting around—like whispering to get attention instead of yelling. I smiled, looked around like I’d had a naughty idea, and skipped freely around the stage like a young girl. The bouncing of my movement caused my skirt to flare up and expose my frilly knickers and made my breasts jiggle and rub under my white blouse. My pigtails flopped and swung randomly, out of sync with my movement.

Then I halted. I spun and floated my arms to my sides like a young girl spinning on a playground, then dropped in half at the waist and placed my hands on the floor. I wiggled my butt a moment, then popped back upright, reaching my arms overhead with a little jump—this maneuver always sparked smiles from my viewers. I felt the thrill of being the focus of their rapt attention.

The naughtiness and charged atmosphere in the room kindled a sensual fire in my loins. I slowly circled my hips, turning around and facing the different sides. I tipped my head with a finger at the corner of my mouth as if contemplating something. Then I reached under my short skirt, hooked my fingers under my frilly knickers, and slid them down and off.

I smiled inwardly at one of my client’s attempts to see up my skirt as I did so. One succeeded in catching a glimpse of my red thong, while the other was left to imagine what I wore underneath. Or to wonder if I wore anything. I spun the knickers around one finger and flung them to the back of the stage.

I ripped open my blouse and threw it off. The audience loved it. I loved it, and any remaining hint of self-consciousness had vanished. I was topless in front of the clients and having a blast.

I raised my arms over my head and undulated my chest and belly. I let the patrons drink in the sight of my bare breasts, areolae crinkling and nipples hardening in the cool air. My schoolgirl tie waved about with my movement. I felt a familiar tickle between my legs; I was getting wet with arousal.

As the next song played, I circled, becoming more sexual in my movements. I thrust my hips, smiled, winked, and caressed my naked tits. The man cheered with each hip swirl and wink. I grabbed the center pole with one hand, hooked my leg on it, and swung around several times, causing my tie to flutter and my skirt to flare and reveal my bare bum and red string thong. I felt like I was flying, untethered and joyful.

As I turned around I saw the male client behind me with his dick in his hands hard as wood. He just couldn’t hold himself anymore. So much for wanting a striptease.

I gave them both the fuck of their lives. My name is Annelise and this is what I do.